


Aftermath

by Ginger_kitty



Series: Tomorrow is Promised to No One [4]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:08:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_kitty/pseuds/Ginger_kitty
Summary: This isn't particularly mature but if you read this first be warned, the rest of the series is definitely mature/explicit
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke, Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Series: Tomorrow is Promised to No One [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824676
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Aftermath

Chapter one - Celebration

It was dark and quiet in the rotunda. Muffled music and voices came from afar, miles away and centuries ago, a heavy oak door separating light and dark, joy and grief, sound and silence. The murals stretching across the expanse of wall, the continuous circle of images of the Inquisition’s existence, might never have been there at all, might have disappeared with the papers and books and ancient shards that had been scattered across the scanty furniture. The desk remained in the middle of the room, the chair slightly askew, as if its owner had stepped out for a moment and would return to resume his studies or his artwork with characteristic diligence.

Movement came not from the direction of the Great Hall, which rang with laughter and thanksgiving, but from the empty stairs leading to the abandoned library. A wisp, it’s greenish light barely illuminating the step in front of it, floated downwards, following its master’s commands, dancing across the room to settle on the empty desk. The dark figure following ignored table and chair to simply stand, seemingly unknowing and unaware, minutes passing without movement, slow breath barely carrying on the chill air. The wisp faded and darkness fell but still the figure stood, oblivious and lost in his own thoughts.

Footsteps sounded from the bridge outside, sharp and filled with purpose, light bobbing in time as a man marched through the open door and stopped. For a minute he simply stared, then he came back to himself. No words passed between them as he carried his torch towards the door leading to the Hall, the sounds of celebration swelling as he opened it, then fading as he closed it behind him, light and life leaving the room to the shadows and the one who hid in them.

It couldn’t have been long before the door opened again, only a few minutes. Enough time for the torchbearer to find the person who might offer the mourner solace. Enough time for him to work his way through the dancing crowds and slip unnoticed through the door with practiced ease. He brought no false light, blinding in its glare, to pain the one who stood beyond, instead he wrapped his arms around him, dark head resting on narrow shoulders, warmth and love and worry in his voice as he said,

“I’m sorry, love.”

The other stood, silent, unsure whether to speak or not, unsure whether his voice had left him entirely, soaking in the comfort of the strong embrace and utterly unmade by it. He bowed his head and closed his eyes in the darkness, feeling as though he absorbed some of the others' never-ending strength through his touch. How long they stood, he would never know, nor when the tears came, dripping silently down his cheeks and onto the rough hands that met in front of his chest. But however long it was, finally he turned and looked down at his stalwart love.

Garrett Hawke was not a tall man. Of average height and build he might have faded into the background if not for the piercing blue eyes that contrasted sharply with jet black hair and pale skin. He was handsome, almost over-powering in sheer male beauty with an edge of brutality in the sharp cheeks and defined jaw, made more rugged by his close trimmed beard. The day they met Anders had been so overwhelmed by the rush of pure lust that Justice had pushed forward to meet a threat even his host did not understand. Those features were well-known now, well-loved and almost softened by familiarity; but sometimes, just occasionally, the force of that beauty hit Anders as it had the first time, as it did now, and overwhelmed him completely.

He smiled gently, tears still making slow tracks down the lines of his face, as he looked at the man who had stood by him through so much. Dipping down, he kissed him lightly, his own arms coming up around Garrett’s waist as he accepted the simple comfort of his embrace. How long they might have stood there he didn’t know, but suddenly the door to the Hall was flung open and the silence was shattered by a voice filled with anguish and fury.

“He had no right, Cullen!” Dorian’s eyes flashed, his mouth twisted in anger as he looked to the man who followed behind. “He had no fucking right to keep it from me, from any of us.” Turning forward he noticed the pair standing watching and stopped abruptly, Cullen almost crashing into him in his haste to reach his partner. Anders had always thought they were a strange pair, the Tevinter mage and the ruthless Knight-Captain, one dark and beautiful and full of fire, the other blond and plain and cold as ice. Cullen had changed, less than he thought but more than Anders had thought he could, where once they had been at odds, now there was a gruding respect between them.

Dorian stalked forward, graceful as a panther, and grabbed Anders’ hand, shoving a piece of parchment into it that Anders clung to rather than took, unsure what was going on. “That is yours.” He turned towards the outer door and strode away while Cullen followed after him, murmured apologies for the disruption barely heard.

“What is it?” asked Garrett. Anders lifted the parchment and unfolded it, staring blankly at the familiar writing for long moments before he could begin to take in the meaning.

Anders

Thank you for everything. Without you and Dorian and Solas I would never have had the chance of going home. If you are reading this, I am no longer in Skyhold, not even in Thedas. I will miss you, all of you. Thank you for taking the time from saving the world to save one unimportant person.

Thank Garrett for me. I always understood why he hated me, but spending time with you both was a dream come true. 

I long for home, but I’m so glad I met you, spent time with you, got to know you. You were always my favourite.

I love you both

Gwen

He read it, then read it again. He read it aloud to Garrett, tears running freely again, relief and worry and pain and gratitude and love all mingling until he realised why Dorian had been angry. They had been back in Skyhold for hours. Max had told them Gwen was gone but never mentioned the letters, didn’t hand them over. The Inquisitor had kept them for himself, no doubt read them, one more in a long list of bad decisions that had alienated him from his Inner Circle even as those outside it worshipped him. Garrett was glaring at the letter, parchment crumpling in his hand until Anders took it and smoothed it back out.

“I’m tired,” he said, smiling down at his indignant mate. “Let’s go to bed.”

He took Garrett’s hand and together they walked through Skyhold to their room. Tomorrow would be time enough to deal with it all, for tonight he simply wanted to hold his husband and be grateful they were all still alive.

\--------

Chapter two - What happens next?

It seemed inevitable that they should gather there, even with two of their number missing, at the last stroke of the ninth bell Dorian and Anders stood in the rotunda, helplessly staring at each other and wondering why they had come. 

Dorian broke first. “I’m not entirely sure what we should be doing,” he admitted, a slight flush barely visible on his dark skin. Anders simply nodded. He had broken his habit of silence somewhat over the past few months, or rather, had it broken for him by the irrepressible Gwen, but now he had no words. Gwen was gone, Solas too, soon it would be his turn, his and Garrett’s. The Tevinter spoke again. “What will you do now?”

Anders jerked his shoulder before forcing out the words. “We’ll move on. It seems pointless to stay. Corypheus is truly dead and Garrett worries that when the euphoria wears off I’ll be a target again. There are enough healers now and, well...” He trailed off, unsure how to say that they wouldn’t really be needed any more.

Dorian nodded, as always catching the things Anders hadn’t said. “I myself will be returning to Tevinter. Not immediately of course, there are still things to see too here. But eventually, possibly even soon.”

“And Cullen?” 

Dorian flinched. “The Inquisition will continue, there are still rifts to be closed, chaos to be conquered. Max will need his advisors beside him. I’m sure the Commander and I will keep in touch, write when our duties permit. It’s unlikely I will be South again, once I leave.” He paused, as if unsure what to say next and Anders wondered how he would have felt if Hawke had told him to go, to leave with no hope of seeing him again. Tevinter was no place for a Southern ex-templar, let alone one known as Dorian’s lover. While he didn’t think that would stop the man for one minute, his duty to the Inquisition would hold him here while Dorian’s took him elsewhere.

“I’m sorry,” was all he said. 

“Don’t be,” said Dorian, with a sad smile. “We must all grow up someday. I need to try to change my homeland.”

“Perhaps one day he will be able to join you?” The acerbic snort reminded him of a conversation from the past. “I once thought a world where a mage could have a love, could marry and be together forever, was a hopeless dream, so far in the future that I would never see it in my lifetime.”

“Well I could always blow up the Magisterium, if you think that would help?”

Anders laughed. “It might at that,” he said. “Look at it this way, Dorian. Southern mages are free. Divine Victoria has already acknowledged my marriage, and scandalised Vivienne by offering to marry Bethany and Fenris. Five years ago any of this was unthinkable. Don’t sell yourself short, I think you will do great things in Tevinter. Void take it, we sent someone back to another universe!” His eyes twinkled mischievously as he added. “Perhaps the four of us should accompany you when you go to Tevinter? Fenris always said I would do well there, and he’s probably missing killing slavers. You could show up to the Magisterium with a new bodyguard.”

For a moment Dorian was struck silent, then he began to laugh, his own genuine, warm, rich laugh. Anders joined him and they were still laughing when Garrett and Cullen found them. They would miss the Inquisition, would miss Gwen even more. But for now the world was not ending, the sun was shining and the men they loved were by their sides. Whatever the future held, they were ready for it.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't particularly mature but if you read this first be warned, the rest of the series is definitely mature/explicit


End file.
